


In the Outfield

by pepperlandgirl4



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8290673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperlandgirl4/pseuds/pepperlandgirl4
Summary: Castiel is long past his glory days playing high school baseball, but he still enjoys a friendly softball game on a quiet summer night. But his peaceful pastime is blown apart when an old opponent returns to town after a decade absence.





	

It wasn't uncommon to see familiar faces and hear half-remembered names in the city's intramural softball league. There were twelve teams in the league and a schedule that had each team play twice before the playoffs, and the same people signed up for the same teams year after year. Castiel Applebe was enjoying his fifth season as the catcher for the Midtown Angels, pleasantly buzzed on two pre-game beers, and relatively content with his life when he caught sight of a painfully familiar face. At first, he couldn't believe his eyes, and he kept sneaking glances at the Devils' dugout, trying to confirm the impossible truth. 

 

When he realized he'd never trust his lying eyes, it occurred to him to check the roster. And there it was in rigid black and white. Pitching for the Yankton Devils was none other than Dean Winchester. The one and only. Castiel swallowed, his throat feeling like sandpaper. He needed another beer. And maybe an escape route? Would Dean remember him? Castiel couldn't imagine he would. What happened between them...well, hardly anything happened between them. Nothing that a man like Dean would remember. Just because it changed Cas's life forever didn't mean that Dean would even give it a second thought. 

 

But the thought of Dean recognizing him, actually remembering him, made him nervous and giddy. He felt laughter bubbling up in his chest--he was a nervous laugher. Dean had noticed that, too. He'd called it Cas’'s evil laugh, which only made him chuckle more. Dean's lips had quirked in amusement as he watched Castiel struggle, and fail, to bring his laughter under control. God, why had Dean even stuck around after that? His giggles were a surprisingly effective shield against unwanted attention, but unfortunately, uncontrollable laughter tended to creep out everybody. Not just the weirdos. Still, Dean had laughed along with him. Dean had stayed. 

 

Dean had kissed him. 

 

"Hey, Cas! You're up!" 

 

Castiel selected his bat from the rack and approached the plate. He was an enthusiastic teammate and a competent catcher, but he'd never been great at the plate. He couldn't be counted on in a pinch, and he didn't want that kind of pressure anyway. He usually batted near the start of the line, when the pressure was low, and there weren't any runners on base. Castiel stepped up to the plate and raised the bat, trying to concentrate on the task of hitting the ball and not how good Dean looked in his red and black T-shirt and well worn jeans. His hat was pulled low over his eyes, so Castiel couldn't read his expression, couldn't see if the pitcher recognized him or not. 

 

Dean had an amazing arm. There had been scouts at the high school game where they first met. Castiel remembered that much. And everybody playing knew exactly who they came to see. None other than Dean Winchester. The one and only. Everybody saw such big things in Dean's future. A part of Castiel couldn't believe he was there, playing what amount to slow-pitch baseball instead of standing in the middle of a stadium with 100,000 adoring fans looking on. 

 

The ball came to the plate so easily that Castiel had no problem cracking a hit that got him all around to second base. His teammate cheered ecstatically, having never seen him make a double play. Cas's heart raced in his ears, and he knew the excitement pulsing through his veins had nothing to do with his great play and everything to do with the man who made it possible. That single pitch removed any doubt--Dean remembered him. So that left only one question: did Dean want to renew their brief acquaintanceship? 

 

Castiel made it over home plate and so did the runner behind him, but everybody else struck out. Castiel sent a look over his shoulder as he crossed home, and he thought he saw Dean incline his head in response. His pulse spiked and he felt jittery--giggly. He walked straight over to the cooler and popped open a light beer, downing it quickly, hoping to drown the nervous giggles in his throat before they could start. 

 

"Hell of a good job there." Gabriel slapped him on the back. He was technically their manager, but that just meant he coordinated the beer runs and ordered the pizza after each practice. He was a good guy, genuinely excited for Cas's success. 

 

"Thanks. Hey...do you recognize their pitcher?" 

 

"Winchester? Sure. I'm surprised you don't. He was class of '01, too. You probably played him a few times." 

 

"Yeah, that must be why. I just couldn't put my finger on why he seemed so familiar." 

 

Gabriel didn't know that Castiel would have recognized him anywhere. He could rattle off his stats, recount the best stories of his high school career, and reveal himself to be either the biggest fan Dean ever had or a creepy stalker. Of course, if he had been a stalker, Dean's sudden appearance in his life wouldn't have been such a shock. The truth was, he knew nothing of Dean's life after graduation. He'd disappeared from town and they didn't have any common friends, so Castiel never gave a thought to tracking him down. 

 

Watching Dean was like taking an unexpected trip through time. Suddenly, Castiel was eighteen, he had his entire life ahead of him, and Dean was the embodiment of that perfection and confusion. Castiel had always suspected he wasn't like other boys, but it wasn't until he saw the fair-haired, green-eyed Dean that he realized how different he was. Because he didn't care about kissing girls, but he so badly wanted to touch Dean's lips that he thought it might kill him. During the course of that baseball game, he saw himself kissing Dean in a million different ways. But it never occurred to him that Dean Winchester would make the first move. Would wait until Castiel’'s nervous giggles subsided and then kiss him with sweet urgency. 

 

He went to bat three more times, and each time he got a hit on his first swing. Not even Michael, their best hitter, could get a hit off Dean. It must have looked like Castiel had the pitcher's number. Nobody would suspect that the Devils pitcher would be helping some random Angel round the bases. Especially since Castiel really wasn't anybody special. He barely fit in with the rest of his team, and they'd had five years to get used to him. 

 

The game ended after the summer sun sank beneath the horizon with the Angels up nine runs to six. Cas’'s four runs making all the difference in the game. 

 

For the first time in five years, Castiel was the team hero. They carried him on their shoulders to Gabriel's van before Castiel could protest, and though he wanted nothing more than to stay in the park, they summarily dragged him to the Watering Hole, fighting over who would get to buy his first drink. As they pulled away from the field, Castiel's heart broke with disappointment, but he comforted himself with the reminder that he would see Dean again. They'd meet at least once more than season. And now he at least knew that Dean Winchester lived in Yankton. Hell, they might even be neighbors. 

 

The Watering Hole was loud and rowdy and crowded. The beers were cheap and the jukebox was free, so it was always a popular gathering spot after the softball games. Castiel never enjoyed it, but being the hero of the night made a big difference. He didn't sit in a corner booth by himself. Everybody wanted him to sit at the bar with them. And he didn't have to worry about not having any cash because everybody wanted to treat him to beer, nachos, wings, whatever he wanted. Unfortunately, the only thing he wanted was one thing he could never order off the menu. 

 

"That was a hell of a game. Mind if I shake your hand?" 

 

Castiel's heart slammed against his ribs. He knew that voice. He tried to school his face before he turned around, but he probably failed deeply. He didn't know because he couldn't even feel his face anymore. He was flushed, numb, from head to toe. "It's my honor," Castiel muttered, extending his hand, swallowing down his sigh when Dean finally touched him. His grip was firm, his callused skin warm and Castiel wanted to feel his rough, perfect fingers everywhere. 

 

"Trust me, the honor is all mine. You're like a secret weapon. What are you doing playing softball?" 

 

Castiel bit back the urge to laugh, his smile strained as he shook his head. They both knew why he got the runs he did, and he didn't understand Dean's game. Fortunately, Dean looked away, gesturing at the bartender for two more beers. 

 

"Seriously, though, Cas, it's good to see you." 

 

Castiel's ears turned pink. He remembered. He really did remember. That meant it wasn't just a crazy dream or a figment of his imagination. It was real. They were real. 

 

"It's good to see you, too. How have you been?" 

 

"Can't complain. Nobody would listen if I tried." 

 

Castiel snorted, biting his lip to keep it from erupting into more. His stomach was fluttering, his head felt like it might be floating away from his body, and Dean looked even better than Castiel remembered. His hair was a little shorter, a little darker than when he was a boy, but his eyes were still the same shade of jade, and his full lips still quirked in the most endearing way. Castiel wondered how much he'd changed, if Dean was taking a catalogue of all his differences. 

 

"I hear ya. So...you're living in Yankton?" 

 

"Midtown, actually. But by the time I signed up, they were the only ones still looking for a pitcher." 

 

"Do you at least work in Yankton?" 

 

"Nope.” Dean’s eyes twinkled as he lifted his beer to his mouth.  “I'm apparently breaking all kinds of rules so I'd appreciate it if you kept it on the DL." 

 

"Don't worry." He met Dean's eyes, looking at him squarely as he added, "You can trust me." 

 

"I know that, buddy. You're one of the good ones." 

 

Castiel turned warm from his ears to his toes. "So are you. Thanks, by the way." 

 

"For the beer? My pleasure." 

 

"No. For the runs." 

 

"What?” Dean quirked his eyebrow. “You think I sent you around the bases on purpose?" 

 

"Didn't you?" 

 

"No. I definitely did not." 

 

"I've never, ever scored four runs in a single game, in any game, in my life,” Cas pointed out. 

 

"Until tonight.” Dean lifted his beer in salute. “Congratulations." 

 

"If you helped...I won't say anything to anybody." 

 

"Well, if you really thought I gave you a few gimmes, you shouldn't mention it at all. Not even to me. But I didn't. Seriously." 

 

"Then how did that happen?" 

 

"I really don't know. Luck? Or maybe it's just your night? Don't question it, Cas. Just enjoy it. You gotta hit those highs when you can, right?" 

 

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Though Castiel wasn't entirely convinced. He didn't know the exact explanation, but it couldn't be as simple as having a good night or a lucky streak. 

 

"But if it is luck, you better not do anything to disrupt it. You've got to keep your streak alive." 

 

"How do I do that?" 

 

"First, don't change anything. And I mean that. Keep the same socks, the same underwear, everything." 

 

Castiel wrinkled his nose. He wasn't sure a lucky streak was worth that. "What else?" 

 

"How many beers did you have?" 

 

"Um...well a lot." 

 

"More than normal?" 

 

"Yeah, definitely." 

 

Dean chuckled. "Okay, so maybe you play better when you're halfway to shitfaced. You wouldn't be the only one. You wouldn't believe how many guys I knew who used to get drunk in the dugout. Now, did you do anything different before the game? Anything at all out of the ordinary?" 

 

"Well...there's one thing, I suppose." 

 

"What's that?" 

 

"I thought about this amazing kiss I once had. It knocked me for a loop, you know. Really...really changed my life around." 

 

"That sounds like one hell of a kiss." 

 

Castiel took a nervous sip from his beer. He couldn't look at Dean. He'd done all the looking he could for one night, and now his eyes nervously darted away every time his attention landed on Dean's face. His hands were moving in obnoxious little patterns, twitching and shaking. He carefully set his drink down before the liquid had a chance to spill from over the top. The last thing he needed was to drench himself or Dean. 

 

"It was. Actually, I never had another kiss like it." 

 

"Those early ones are all pretty special, aren't they? Like they get burned right into your soul." 

 

Not just an early one, but his first ever. And there had only been a handful after that. Every man he ever tried to kiss disappointed him, and so he reserved his lips for somebody special. The only special person he ever met. Not that he'd confess that to Dean. He had to keep some semblance of dignity. 

 

"Yes. Burned into my soul. That's a good way to describe it." 

 

Dean stood up abruptly. "Why don't you join me for a cigarette?" 

 

"Oh, no thanks. I don't smoke." 

 

"Cas? I meant, why don't you step outside with me while I smoke?" 

 

Castiel didn't really see why his presence was necessary, but he wasn't going to turn down the chance to spend more time with Dean. He nodded and stood, following the taller man out the side exit to the fenced off smoking area. It wasn't completely empty, but it did afford them a bit more privacy than the bar did. Dean didn't find a table, though. He snuck around the back corner, gesturing for Castiel to follow. They slipped from the enclosed area and Dean took long strides towards the empty field, separated from the parking lot by a single chain. Castiel had to hurry to catch up with him, his mind burning with questions. 

 

The baseball diamond was on the other side of the field, and they crossed the tall grass in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. The big flood lights were off, the grounds had been cleared of beer cans and trash, and everything was silent and abandoned for the night. Maintenance had just mowed the outfield that morning and there was still a hint of grass clippings in the air. Castiel paused to take a deep breath as his feet sank into the springy grass, and that's when Dean turned on his heel and pulled him into a tight embrace.

 

A beat later, they were locked in a hot, demanding kiss. Castiel was so stunned that he didn't respond at first, his brain trying to process the impossible heat laying claim to his mouth. This did more than just burn him to the soul. It seared him to his core, reaching in deep to the place he lived and branding him  permanently. The kiss ended just as quickly as it begun, with Castiel dazed and blinking. 

 

"I'm sorry. But all that talk of kissing, and I wanted to kiss you as soon as I saw you tonight. I really didn't throw you easy balls on purpose, but I'll be honest, you were driving me to distraction all night. I'm surprised you didn't win by more than three. You should have. My head wasn't really in the game. And oh shit now I'm babbling and you're staring at me like I'm a crazy person..." 

 

Castiel felt like he was the crazy person. But he did know one thing--neither one of them needed to be talking. He took Dean in the same grip that Dean held him and pulled him close. Dean blinked at him, and had his eyelashes always been so long? Castiel didn't have time to worry about that--maybe he'd devote some time to thinking about Dean's lashes later. In the meantime, he only wanted to feel those lips moving against his. His tongue dipped into Dean's mouth, and he was rewarded with a breathy sigh and an immediate parting of lips. Dean's tongue slid against his, swooping in to explore the curves of his mouth. 

 

Their first kiss had been rushed and secretive, promising so much more but ultimately they'd been unable to deliver on that promise. Now there was no threat of lurking coaches or parents to ruin the whole thing. They were both grown adults, and they could do whatever they wanted to each other, with each other. And Castiel wanted to. He wanted to do everything. There wasn't a single fantasy he wanted to hold off on now that the floodgates had opened. A decade of repression threatened to completely overwhelm him, fueled by the fear that Dean would disappear again and he wouldn't get another chance to right that one terrible wrong. 

 

"Do you want to go back to mine?" Castiel asked breathlessly. 

 

"I don't know if that's a good idea." 

 

"Oh, yeah, no, you're right. I can see that. It's probably a terrible idea, actually. I should have been thinking..." 

 

"Cas? Buddy? Calm down. I only meant that I didn't think it was a good idea because I'm not sure I can wait that long." He took Cas's hand and guided it to his crotch, pressing his palm against his obvious erection. Cas's heart fluttered, his own dick doubling in size so quickly it literally made his head spin. "Seriously. I don't know what it is about you, but I can barely look at you without getting hard." 

 

Castiel looked around. They were completely alone in the field, obscured from view by a copse of trees between them and the bar. There were only horse fields on either side of them. No roads and no way for anybody to sneak up on them from behind. People would only come from the direction of the Watering Hole, and Castiel was reasonably sure they'd see or hear anybody approaching. Or maybe he was only fooling himself because he did not want to let go of Dean's package. The human brain did have the uncanny ability to trick itself, and the self-serving ability to justify any decision, no matter how poorly thought out. At the moment, Castiel had all the justification he needed for his desire to strip Dean of his pants and sink to his knees. 

 

He fumbled with Dean's fly, clumsy and awkward, all thumbs. Dean put a hand over his, stilling his attempts while he unsnapped the buttons and tugged on the zipper with his other hand. Castiel smiled in sheepish thanks. Dean's answering grin told him there was nothing to worry about. Maybe there were times when he was less than perfect and his fingers refused to cooperate like they should. Castiel did wish they'd gone back to his, where he could stretch Dean out on his bed and study him under golden light. There was a moon that night, but it was hardly bright enough to reveal all the secrets of Dean's body. Castiel would have to rely on his other senses to build the appropriate mental image of his baseball playing Adonis. 

 

The grass was soft beneath his knees, the ground just a little damp and sweet smelling. Castiel yanked Dean's pants down to his ankles and buried his face in the line where his thigh met his groin, inhaling deeply to catch the scent of his pure musk. His cock jerked, and his tongue snuck out on its own accord, running over his skin to see if he tasted as good as he smelled. He gripped Dean's thighs, not surprised to feel that they were still thick and well-muscled. He ran his palms over the smooth skin, traveling from his hips to his knees and back up his thighs, circling around to cup the firm, round cheeks of his ass. Castiel held him like that while his mouth continued exploring the expanse of Dean's body, kissing and nibbling across every inch of skin he could reach. He kept expecting Dean to reach down and stop him, convinced that he was going too far, or maybe he wasn't going in the right direction at all. But Dean didn't stop him, and when a sound escaped his throat, it always sounded good. 

 

Dean's hard cock twitched against Cas's cheek, bobbing in response to every light touch, demanding attention that Castiel wasn't ready to give it yet. He sat back on his heels, moving his hands to Dean's hips so he could hold him in place and commit the shape and silhouette of his body to memory. Dean reached down, cupping the side of Cas's cheek and pulling his attention heavenward, to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. 

 

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." 

 

"What about doing everything I've ever wanted to do? Is that okay?" 

 

"That's completely, totally okay in my book. Everybody should be able to do everything they want...well, within reason. I mean, you wouldn't want really crazy people to do everything they want. They might end up being distinctly unpleasant..." 

 

When Castiel realized that Dean was babbling once again and probably wasn't going to stop any time soon, he stopped listening. There were other things to do. Like follow the bulging vein on the underside of Dean's cock from the crown to the base. It snaked back and forth, pulsing insistently against Cas's tongue as he licked it from top to bottom and bottom to top. Then there was his heavy sac. He never thought about it before, but when he saw Dean's balls hanging low between his thighs, he could only think about one thing. Dropping his head lower, he opened his jaw wide enough to take suck the sack into the tight confines of his mouth. Dean gasped and bucked his hips, the tip of his cock slapping Cas's cheek as he held the tender balls between his lips. He caught the shaft with his left hand and stroked it slowly, more of a tease than anything. 

 

Dean swore under his breath and shifted his weight back and forth, his groans still soft but becoming more intense. Each one echoed through Cas's head and off his heart, reverberating through his entire body. His tongue fluttered over Dean's balls, circling one than caressing the other, playing with the loose, wrinkly skin and finding the most tender points. He especially liked it when one tiny gesture had a huge consequence--like when he briefly increased the suction and Dean's knees nearly buckled. 

 

"Cas...wait...just wait...this isn't what I want."

 

Castiel immediately released Dean's balls, sitting back on his heels with palpable confusion. Had he done something wrong? It didn't seem like he'd misread anything, for once. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation, but Dean's face was suddenly in his, and before he could get a word out, Dean was attacking him with his mouth. And that's exactly what it felt like. A full-on facial assault. Castiel even fell backwards from its force, and Dean helped him along, guiding him backwards to the ground. Castiel stretched out under the stars, Dean still plundering his mouth, stealing every ounce of breath and common sense he had. 

 

From his new position, Dean made short work of Cas's pants, quickly unbuckling, unbuttoning, and unzipping. He was so fast that Castiel didn't realize what was happening until the garment was hooked around his ankles and there was nothing blocking him from the cool night air or Dean's hot, rough hand. He fisted Cas's shaft, stroking the length of him, forcing even more blood into his engorged veins. He was pretty sure he couldn't get any harder, and then Dean flicked his thumb over the sensitive tip, and Castiel thought maybe that was worth another full inch. 

 

"Do you know what I want, Cas? Do you know what I can't stop thinking about?" 

 

Castiel shook his head. He couldn't even begin to guess. 

 

"I want you to fuck me. I want to feel this big thick rod in my ass." 

 

Oh, that sounded great. Better than great. Better than any dream he'd ever had. But there was one problem. "I don't have anything. No, you know, protection. Or anything else." 

 

"It's okay. I was a Boy Scout. And you know the Boy Scout motto, right?" 

 

"Always be prepared?" 

 

Dean kicked his pants off his feet and rummaged in the pockets, producing both a foil wrapper and another, smaller foil packet. He ripped the condom open and unrolled the condom down Cas's dick, then ripped the other packet open with his teeth. He pushed the lube from its wrapper, coating the condom with most of it before emptying the rest over his fingers. He moved his hand between his legs, and Castiel couldn't see what was happening, but he could hear the slightly squishy sound of his slick fingers slipping into his tight ass. 

 

"Are you sure about this?" Castiel asked as Dean swung his leg over his body, straddling him. They were moving so fast. Much faster than Castiel would have ever expected. Too fast? Or was this moment ten years in the making? Losing his virginity to Dean had certainly crossed his mind at the time. Maybe Dean had the same thought and now had the chance to set things to right? Or maybe he was simply over-thinking the whole thing. Perhaps Dean worked on the "If it feels good, do it" principle, and this definitely felt good. 

 

"I'm very sure. Don't you want it? Don't you want me?" 

 

Castiel nodded quickly. Oh yes sir, he definitely wanted this, and he definitely wanted Dean. There was never any doubt of that fact. 

 

"Then...just lie there...and relax..." He held Cas's slick crown against his pucker and sank back, easily taking Castiel inside. Obviously, this wasn't his first rodeo. Castiel didn't think about all the men who must have come before him. They didn't matter. He was the one there, at that moment, with Dean's beautiful, flexing body sinking lower and lower onto his shaft. His channel was so tight it almost hurt, the tight muscles gripping his dick mercilessly. Dean kept moving until he was fully seated, Cas's balls fitting against the curve of his ass while his dick split him open. 

 

"Yessss," Dean hissed, arching his back. In that moment, Castiel didn't know which was more satisfying--the amazing heat enclosing his shaft or the sight of Dean arching his back in the moonlight, wanton and graceful as a cat. Now he didn't regret not making it back to his house. Dean was supposed to be taken outside, in the silvery moonlight, beneath the canopy of stars, his cries mingling and playing with the other sounds of the night. Dean was always his best on the diamond, and that's where Castiel wanted to remember him. 

 

Dean rode him with short strokes and a sharp tempo, sliding his hips forward and back. Castiel reached for him, letting his fingers dance over every inch he could touch. He committed every detail to memory, knowing he would want to relive this moment again and again for the rest of his life. Nothing would replace this for him. Dean had always been The One, the unattainable dream who somehow became flesh and entered his world. Dean caught his hands, entwining their fingers as he bent at the waist, bringing the heat of his skin and his mouth to meet Cas's. 

 

Dean moaned and Castiel unconsciously echoed him, not just with his throat but with his entire body. Every movement, every time his muscles jumped and his body twitched, every sigh and thrust was a direct response to Dean. He'd never been so attuned to another person, never felt so open. He was the one inside of Dean, but he felt like he was the open receptacle, empty and clear, longing to be filled. He matched Dean kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust, until the tension became too much to bear and he knew he was going to break. 

 

“Dean...slow down...too close...” 

 

Dean didn't hear him. Or chose to ignore him. Instead of slowly, he quickened his pace, sliding all the way up until he was almost completely off of Cas's cock, and then slamming back down with enough force to make Castiel see stars. He closed his eyes against the sudden flare, spinning into infinity, erupting with his cock buried deep inside Dean's body. Dean didn't stop moving, riding out Cas's spasms and chasing his own release. Castiel slid his hand between their stomachs, seeking Dean's proud length. He stroked his fist, hurrying Dean along until he convulsed, filling Cas's fist with come. 

 

“Oh yeah,” Dean sighed, collapsing on top of him. “That's the stuff. That...that right there. Definitely the stuff.” 

 

Castiel hummed in agreement, contentment spreading through his exhausted body. Finally, a piece he'd been missing had slipped into place and a decade old mistake was righted. 

 

“I have a confession to make,” Dean murmured. 

 

“What's that?” 

 

“I'm not really into softball...or baseball anymore. But I signed up for the league hoping you still were. I knew it was a long shot. Hell, even if I found you, it was a long shot you'd remember me, or even want to talk to me.” 

 

“I didn't think you remembered me.” 

 

“What? Do you think I just went around kissing every boy I met? You were my first, too, you know.” 

 

“So were you...I mean, did you just want to tie up loose ends? Or were you looking for...something more? 

 

“You know, I told myself I only wanted to tie up loose ends. But I think...maybe we could be something more.” 

 

“Maybe we should have this conversation later. Over breakfast.” 

 

Dean lifted his head to grin at him. It was so infectious that Castiel couldn't help but return his smile. He felt the familiar bubbling in his chest, but this time he didn't try to swallow his laughter. He let it erupt from him, free and joyful, filling the air between them and the moon. After a few beats, Dean joined him, creating a new harmony. 

 

  
  
  



End file.
